Last Night Nervous
by stagetrinity
Summary: When Helga comes to visit Arnold in San Lorenzo after high school graduation, Arnold finds that her stay might be a bit more than he bargained for. So when the two weeks come to and end, they've got one night left to make a lasting impression. All it takes is a pink dress to send hormones high. oneshot. (read description inside for a break down of the rating. a k story within a m)


**Okay, this was originally a completely different idea. It was going to be Arnold returning home and such – but then I thought, hey! What if Helga visited him in San Lorenzo? So then I deleted about two pages of story and started from scratch…**

**And it turned into this. Now let me explain… This fic sort of turned into a bit a fans service, since it'll be many more chapters down the line in "It's a Deal" before any physical Helga/ Arnold stuff, and my mind wants some now! You're going to see this symbol in the story (***). When you see that, know that you can officially end reading this oneshot. It will be complete enough on its own. However, if you're comfortable reading more explicit content between two eighteen year olds, read on until the end.**

**Thank you Google translate!**

* * *

"Calm down son, the plane just landed. There's no need to get so worked up," Miles said in another futile attempt to comfort his now eighteen year old son. The poor boy was pacing around in circles, not even bothering to pick a spot in the shade under one of the few trees littering the parking area.

"What if she missed the flight? She wouldn't be able to call; she said she wasn't going to bring her cellphone because of long distance calling thing. How do I know she even got on the plane? What if she got stuck at the airport back home?" Arnold babbled frantically, running his fingers through his hair nervously. He'd actually tried to style the shaggy mass of blonde before they'd left for the airport, but he'd since broken all the gel with his constant touching.

He was really surprised she'd accept his invitation to visit for a couple of weeks. The original plan was that this was going to be Gerald's trip, so the two boys could have a reunion and Arnold could show Gerald around his home of the past eight years before they both set off to college back in Hillwood. But, in a freak accident, Gerald had broken his leg during the last football game of the season after a particularly nasty tackle. He hated to let the tickets go to waste, and had emailed Arnold about the prospect of Helga taking over his tickets. Arnold had talked it over with his parents, who were fine with the idea. After all, Arnold and Helga had kept in touch just as much – if not more – than Arnold and Gerald. The idea of asking her to visit seemed so obvious after the fact.

And boy was he nervous. Sure, the occasional Skype conversation and photos had allowed them to replace old faces with new, but it didn't change the fact they hadn't physically been face to face since she'd left with the others all those years ago. They didn't discuss the kiss at all, or anything that had been said back then. They had just been nine at the time, those hadn't meant anything. Right?

He turned his wrist, checking the time on his watch once more. Where was she?

"Criminy, it's hot as hades!"

He knew that voice. "Helga!" he called, waving furiously as he saw her weaving around the others exiting the small building. He could hear his dad chuckling on the phone, but he didn't care. He continued to wave. He knew she had noticed him by the way she rolled her eyes. "Gotta go Dad. We'll see you guys in about an hour," he rushed, hanging up the phone.

"You gonna help me with these bags, or are you going to stand there like an idiot?" she called to him.

"Oh, right," he muttered, dashing forward. She had one large suitcase, plus the duffel bag over her shoulder. "Let me get those." And he fully intended to reach out and take them from her, but he paused. He could see in her face that she could feel the sudden tension between them now a well. The tension that comes from finally being able to touch and not knowing how to go about doing so.

"Um, wow. It's…it's great to see you," he fumbled, awkwardly moving his arms to hug her, but letting them fall back to his side.

"You too," she said, and he could tell from the quick smile she gave him that she was sincere. Her arms gave a twitch as well, and he was thankful that she went through with her twitch as she threw her arms around his neck. It was strange now, to find that he had suddenly grown to being the taller of the two. He eagerly hugged her back, giving her a final tight squeeze before releasing her and taking her bags.

The hug proved to be just what they needed to break through whatever residual awkwardness they had had, and the hour ride back to the city was filled with nonstop chatter. Apparently Rhonda had met her match in fashion and was appalled to find it had been a freshman, so the entire year she had been wearing outrageous designer clothing. Rumor had it that Harold had finally made the move on Patty when the two were sporting hickeys after prom, and Stinky and Lila had settled into a rather 'oh so perfect' relationship over the past few months. There was also various talk of sports matches and movies, as well as video games and graduations.

"Of course I told you Phoebe as Valedictorian, but her speech was phenomenal. She nailed it. I mean I don't cry, but I got a bit misty eyed."

"Don't lie, I bet you were just bawling."

"Shut up!" she retorted, punching him in the arm.

"Watch it, I'm driving here!" he wailed, pushing her back over in her seat. "You'll get us killed."

"Like the streets are so busy," she said sarcastically. They had passed maybe one or two cars once getting out of the airport traffic. "Where is everyone?"

"Oh, the streets really aren't busy unless you're up around the capital. Besides the fact gas is like ridiculously expensive, people prefer to walk," Arnold explained, shrugging. He rarely took the car anywhere. "Or we take a taxi."

"Taxis? I haven't seen any taxis," Helga mused, twisting her face in confusion.

"No, a lot of the taxis are just regular mini vans. We don't have yellow taxis around here."

"What, you just ride with strangers?" she asked, appalled.

"Um, If my memory serves correctly, most of the taxi drivers in American tend to be strangers to their passengers as well," he said slowly, raising an eyebrow.

"…Okay, touché. So how long till we get to your house? I'm pretty excited! I'm totally not used to seeing house that aren't just attached and squished together!" she babbled, demonstrating by squeezing her hands together as though she were holding a box.

"Actually, that's it right up there," Arnold instructed, pointing to a house ahead on the right. It was a small, two story brick home, with a carport and a small fence in the back. He felt a swell of pride at his home. His parents had invested in a house once he had gotten to middle school, and he had really started to feel that they were a family then. He pulled the car in, turning off the ignition. "Come on, let's get your luggage. We can go out and eat tonight if you want, so you can see the town. But of course, I totally understand if you're too tired from your flight," he offered up a bit shyly as he went to the trunk of the car to unload her things. He hoped it wasn't too forward. It wasn't like he was asking her on -

"A date, huh? I just got here and you're already asking me on a date," Helga teased, adjusting her duffle bag on her shoulder. Arnold felt his cheeks burn, and he opened his mouth to protest. "I'm only kidding Arnold-o, no need to get your panties in a twist."

"Come on," he said with a roll of his eyes, pushing open the door. It led them into an average sized kitchen which was connected to a small den. The stairs where in the corner of the den, and he gestured for her to follow him up. "This is my room here," he explained, pointing to a door just to the right. "The one across from it will be your room, and the door next to it is the bathroom. That door at the end is supposed to be an 'all purpose room', but it sort of morphed into my game room since I'm the only one on this floor."

"Sweet setup," Helga complimented, pushing the door open to her room. It had all the amenities you'd expect from a guest room, and Arnold was instructed to put her suitcase at the end of the bed. "Where are your parents, may I ask?"

"They have a rather productive dig going. They were going to take the day off to see you, but I told them not to worry about it," he said, shrugging. They'd been out a lot this past month.

"You just didn't want them to embarrass you," she joked, smirking.

"Okay, yeah, maybe a little," he replied with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "So what do you wanna do? Town is only about a mile walk from here, if you want me to show you around. Or we can just chill."

"I want to eat. I am a growing girl and I am hungry," Helga replied with a grin. He yelped as she pushed past him, turning the corner and clomping down the stairs.

"Hey, wait up!" Arnold laughed, racing after her.

"You guys have nothing in your fridge!" he heard Helga wail as he loped into the kitchen.

"Yeah? And?"

"Why the heck not?"

"Because it gets really hot. The fridge is mainly for stuff we plan on eating right away," he explained, walking past her to throw open the cabinets. He sifted through various cans and cereal boxes.

"Powdered milk?" He could tell by her face and her tone that she was disgusted when she saw the box.

"Yes, powdered milk," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Regular milk spoils too fast. Chill."

"Okay, so I see you have nothing to eat. Hey, why don't we cook supper? Surprise your parents?" Helga's eyes got bright at this new idea, and she dealt him a playful punch to the arm. "Come on!"

"You cook?" he asked incredulously, looking at her over his shoulder. That was impressive. He could barely make a grilled cheese.

"Uh, someone has to or we'd all starve in my house. I started experimenting with stuff in middle school, looking up recipes and stuff. It's really not that hard," she said modestly, brushing her hair back behind her ear as she looked at the floor.

Arnold felt himself smile. She looked really sweet when she did stuff like that…though, that was hardly ever. She'd quickly switched back to smirk mode, tossing her hair from her face. "What do you say, bucko? I take it from your face you can't cook squat. Come on, I'll teach you."

"Ugh, alright. Is this going to involve a lot of carrying?"

They decided on making alfredo, which required minimal ingredients and wouldn't require a whole lot of bags to carry back. Luckily, there was a nice breeze out and Arnold figured their cold items would survive the walk back. Rather than head straight for the grocery store, Helga had demanded to be shown around town. She had questions about everything. Did people really buy food from the sketchy looking little vendor trailers on the sidewalk? Why did all the stores just leave their doors open? Where did all the loud music come from? Where had his school been?"

Arnold merely rolled his eyes, but he didn't mind explaining all this and more to her. In fact, he wanted to show her everything about the place he called home, and she seemed eager to learn about his life here. About the small grocery store he worked in to the places he and his friends frequented. She marveled at how different the schools were, with their open classrooms that led out to sidewalks instead of hallways and lacked air-conditioning. She was jealous of their ability to have an hour to walk wherever they wanted for lunch, and teased him as he described his uniform of khakis, button down and a black tie. The concept that he didn't learn American history but that of San Lorenzo had never crossed her mind, and she had certainly not expected to find he was fluent in Spanish.

"Well yeah," he laughed, taking in her wide eyed expression as they rested on a bench near the school. "Most of the kids here speak Spanish, you know, though they know English too. A lot of people that sell things on the street really only speak Spanish. Like the vendors in the carts? And there's real Mexican food here, not like you eat back in Hillwood. Come on! I'll get you something!" And without thinking he grabbed her by the hand, pulling her along behind him.

She looked a bit skeptical as he led her to one of the carts, but the woman waved, giving a friendly smile.

"Hola! ¿Cómo estás esta noche?" Arnold greeted, feeling a bit smug as Helga's mouth dropped. It made him feel a bit special, knowing he was able to do something that seemed to genuinely impress her.

"Estoy bien, Arnold! ¿Y quién eres amigo? Ella es muy bonita," the woman replied, giving a sly smile as she looked over at Helga.

"Esta es mi amiga Helga, desde Hillwood. Ella acaba de llegar esta tarde. Ella dijo que tenía hambre, así que pensé que la dejaría probar algo de comida real," he laughed, putting his arm around Helga as he did so. The way she pouted at his laugh made him smile. She looked so cute when she pouted like that. The thought made him stop his laugh immediately, and he dropped his arm from her shoulder as though it were on fire. This was his friend Helga he was talking about; he didn't need to have these thoughts about her. She was only here for a couple of weeks; he didn't need to complicate things by letting old feelings come back up. Sure, it was easy to deny that maybe he might have a thing for her when their only communication was letters and Skype. But she had such a way with her writing, and it seemed she was a much open person when she wrote him her excessively long emails full of her worries and her dreams and the things most people really don't talk about. And maybe his feelings were one of those things to just not talk about.

"Bueno, yo puedo ayudarla! ¿Quieres que la hago lo de siempre?" the woman asked, interrupting his thoughts. He simply nodded, and gave Helga push to go sit on one of the stools at the front. This trip was going to go either two ways. Really fast, or really slow.

As the two weeks came to a close and the two were in their respective rooms getting dressed for the night, Arnold had found it had proved to be the latter. The weeks had practically zoomed by him. Helga would be leaving for Hillwood tomorrow morning, and it'd be another month before he headed back to Hillwood to settle in his paperwork and such for college. And the worst part was these two weeks had confirmed his worst fears; he really did have feelings for Helga. He'd made the revelation several times over. He'd realized it when he watched her take her first sip of powdered milk, and as he watched her cook that first night. It was all in the way she so ungraciously lost at soccer and how she looked in her pajamas as they watched the stars in the backyard. It was the smell of her shampoo, and the shock of the moments when she carelessly touched him. It was just _her_. And it was really hard just sleeping across the hall. Hormones were a bitch.

"Come on Arnold, I'm ready over here. Stop being such a girl!" Helga called as she pounded on his door.

"Just chill, I'm coming," he called back as he tried to fix his hair. They were just going out to eat, and they certainly weren't going anywhere special. But still, he felt this would be the last real impression she carried of him back to Hillwood, and he wanted to look nice. So he'd settled for his nicest pair of jeans and a put on his boots. Boots were masculine, and girls like masculinity, right? He'd finished off with his signature plaid button-down, which he had spent a good five minutes trying to figure out how many buttons he was supposed to leave undone to achieve the rugged look – but without looking like he'd tried too hard. "Don't have a-" but his word faded as he opened his door to find her standing there in her light pink sundress. He knew she had a figure, but now he _really_ knew. The dress brushed against her thighs, showing off her toned legs. The spaghetti straps allowed him a full view of her shoulders, and just a small enough amount of cleavage to make a man wild. She'd left her hair down and it fell in natural waves over her shoulders. He hadn't meant to stare, and he coughed, catching his hand before it went straight to his gelled hair. "We'll take the car, if you want. I don't want you to get cold," he mumbled.

"Walking is fine," she said carelessly, scuffing her pink converse on the floor. "I'll be cooped up in a plane all day tomorrow. Besides, the weather's nice."

He nodded, closing his door behind him.

"You kids have fun," Miles called from the couch as they descended the stairs, and Arnold looked away as his dad gave him a wink.

"Don't stay out too late," Stella reminded them. "Helga has to be at the airport by eight in the morning, so keep that in mind."

"Well will mom," Arnold reply with a roll of his eyes. "We'll take a taxi back home, kay?" Without waiting for a reply, he ushered Helga out the door. He heard her laugh as closed the door.

"I've actually really liked getting to know your parents more," she mused. "They're much different than mine, that's for sure. You're really lucky, you know?"

"I know," he replied, knowing she was right. His life hadn't been bad before, but now it felt complete. It felt right. He missed his grandparents, but they made sure to visit every summer.

"So," Helga stated with a bit of finality, "I've decided that tonight we're going to talk about the stuff we've avoided talking about all week." Arnold felt his stomach knot. "Like how we talk when we email. We're going to be open, and – and no weaseling out. Deal?"

He watched as she clenched her fists at her side, nodding her head as she spoke. "Okay," he agreed a bit reluctantly. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he peered ahead, watching as the sun continued to sink down. Twilight was one of his favorite times to be out, when he stopped to think about it. "Like what?"

"I don't know. I just feel this may be the last long conversation we have in a while – I mean, at least in person. So we should make it count."

"So, what are you doing about college?" he asked, not sure where this conversation was going to start. He looked over to find her looking thoughtful.

"I guess I'll be going to the university with you guys," she said after a moment. "I'll be rooming with Phoebe if things work out. Financially I mean."

"Of course. I know you're smart enough to get in, no doubt."

"Oh what do you know anyway?"

"That you are way smarter than you give yourself credit for. You're talented, and you're writing is amazing. I mean, they'd have to be an idiot to not let you in. I know you think I don't know who got third in you guys graduating class, but I do." He looked over at her with a smile, heart beating fast. "Smart and beautiful. You've got it all going for you." Once it was out of his mouth, he had a mini panic attack. Oh God, what if she looked at him like an idiot? What if that was something not to say?

"You think I'm beautiful?" she asked meekly, her cheeks tinting to match her dress as she looked down at the street.

"Well, yeah, of course I do," he said with a shrug, this time not bothering to stop his hand from running through his hair.

"You know, no one's ever said that to me before. I mean, aside from Phoebe," she confessed, playing with her hands as they walked.

"You've got to be joking! I'm sure guys tell you that all the time."

He watched as she shook her head no, giving a sarcastic laugh. "Are you kidding? Guys never paid me any attention anyway. I mean, not like I wanted them too." She focused back on her fingers.

"Then they missed out. I mean seriously. You're funny, smart, and beautiful – plus you can play a mean game of football." He nudged her shoulder with his own.

"Oh yeah right. I'm no Rhonda or Lila. I'm just Helga."

"Well I happen to like Helga," he said in a teasing tone. "So when Helga's done feeling blue, you can tell her that." He laughed as she reached out to punch him in the arm.

"Oh whatever. You know what I mean. But I was never looking for some high school fling. I wanted something a bit more fairy tale like," she tried to explain, shaking her head.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm in the same boat. I really haven't done much better," he confessed, pursing his lips together. "What?" he inquired, looking at Helga's expression.

"Stupid romance movies and books make it seem so easy. I haven't even had any romance movie kisses yet," she countered sullenly, "Well, besides you. When we were, you know, nine."

"Romance movie kiss?" he laughed, raising his eyebrow.

"You know, with the fireworks or the romantic words. That sizzle, you know? The most I've done is a few, rather lame make out sessions."

"Oh, well me neither."

He watched as she rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "So my little nine year old kisses weren't good enough for you, huh?"

"We were nine," he reiterated with a sigh. "Grade school crushes. Those don't count."

"Crushes?" she said, perking up. "So you had a crush on me?"

Arnold felt his cheeks burn as he babbled, "Well, maybe, yeah, a little one. When you helped me with my parents. I mean, for a little boy, what you did was a big deal." He scuffed his foot on the road, feeling a bit embarrassed over the confession.

"And you didn't tell me?" she said in mock hurt. "All the years wasted."

"Oh, come of it. Crushes is plural. I know you liked me, even if you always denied it," he shot back. This time Helga was the one to blush. "Like you said, years wasted," he teased back, ticking her sides. She pushed him away, laughing.

"Shut up Arnold-o. I'm a big girl, and have since outgrown school girl crushes."

"Then what do you call it now, if it's not crush?" he continued teasing, surprised by the look on her face as he finished. Wait, did she still actually like him? He straightened up, looking the opposite direction. "Look, I didn't mean-" he began.

"Just drop it, okay? It's not a big deal," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and putting on a speed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he called, catching up to her.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"That's not part of our conversation deal!" he fumed, taking her by the wrist. "We're supposed to talk about this stuff, Helga."

"What are we talking about Arnold?! What, are we talking about the fact that I didn't get over it? That maybe I can't just turn the way I feel off like a faucet? Or are you just going to make fun of me about it? I don't want pity about this Arnold, okay? I'm happy just being your friend," she snapped, jerking her arm away.

"Well I'm not."

"What?" she whispered, shocked.

"Well I'm not," he affirmed louder this time, throwing his arms up. "I'm not, okay? Do you know how hard it's been for me to sleep know you were just across the hall from me? I've spent most of the past two weeks reminding myself we are just friends and other things makes it complicated. And maybe….well maybe I want to be complicated." He hadn't mean for his voice to sound the way it did when he said it, but he knew from the look in her eyes that it had affected her.

"And you have the nerve to tell me off for not talking about it?" she fumbled. The light was almost completely faded and he couldn't help it, he just needed to touch her, and not her hand or her wrist, but in another way entirely. And it felt wrong to think that way, but he didn't care.

"Do you really even want to talk about it anymore?" he said, the huskiness creeping into his voice the more the thoughts swirled in his head. It was the dress. Why did she have to wear the dress? She knew damn well why she had chosen the wear the dress, he knew she did.

"Well what are we supposed to do?" she retorted, frowning.

"Whatever you want to do," he replied, keeping his voice steady. He clenched his fist by his sides, hitting them on the sides of his pants –which were fitting a bit funny. This was not what he intended for the night in the least.

It was dark now, and they had stopped walking when the conversation had started. He could just make her out in the dark, his eyes not really adjusted yet. "How many cars pass by here at night?"

"None," he replied, surprised. "This is kind of an empty road. Why?"

"So now you can answer my question. What do_ you_ want to do?" she asked a voice that sent shivers through his body. He took the hint, closing the short distance between them in an instant.

He knew exactly what he wanted to do. His thumb and forefinger went to her chin, tilting her head up as he rested his forehead against hers. "This," he said in a soft tone, pressing his lips against hers.

(***)

He didn't know what to expect from this kiss, but he was certain this was better than anything he could have imagined. Her lips tasted faintly of strawberry chapstick, and the tiny moan that came from her made him press harder. His hands found their way to the small of her back, pulling her hips close against his in an attempt to close any distance between them. A surprised squeak bubbled up, and he immediately broke the kiss, embarrassed at what she surely felt. "Sorry, I just-"

But she cut him off, grabbing him by the belt loops, reclosing the distance. Her lips were back on his, and he returned the hunger of it. This wasn't cutting it. Not close enough, still not close enough. He shifted, not breaking the kiss as he lifted her up. Her legs locked around his waist, and he could tell when he shifted his hands to her thighs that he dress was inching up higher by the moment. When she broke the kiss to trail mixtures of nibbles and tongue down his throat, he felt his knees grow weak.

"We can't do this," he gasped, suppressing the noises trying to break free from his throat.

"What do you mean we can't?" she gasped, pulling away.

"Not on the road, not on the road," he groaned, letting her slide back down to the ground. When she was firmly on her own two feet, he took her by the hand and led her off the road. His eyes were adjusted enough to know where he was going, and after a few moments they came to the small river where he and Miles came to fish on occasion.

"What, are we going swimming now?" she asked sarcastically, letting go of his hand.

"No, I just figured the road was definitely not the place for that…uh…conversation," he explained, running his fingers through his hair as he sat down on the grass.

"Conversation, huh?" she teased, coming to sit beside him. The moonlight was reflecting from the water, shimmering on the surface. He turned to look at her, finding one of her straps had slid down her arm. Despite the heat of the moment (so to speak) earlier, he didn't want her to think he was taking advantage of her. He quickly slid it back into place for her, coughing. She turned to look at him curiously before switching to mischievous. "Sorry, did that bother you?"

"Well, just a bit, yeah," he admitted, swallowing loudly as she shimmied both of the straps from her shoulders, tossing her hair over her shoulders.

"You know, I was kind of enjoying our earlier conversation," she said, scooting closer. He could feel his breathing start to speed up as her lips once again continued their trail across his jaw.

"Funny," he teased with grin. "I don't remember what that was."

"We were talking about this," she whispered, finding his lips once more. Her tongue snaked out across them, driving him crazy. He pulled her over to his lap, and she straddled him of her own accord, pushing him down to the ground. "Wait," she breathed, pulling back slightly. "This isn't some sort of trick, is it?" she asked, her face extremely vulnerable at that moment. "You're not going to go laugh about this later?"

"No," he said honestly, surprised she would even ask such a thing. He moved his hands to her face, brushing the hair back behind her ears. "This only has to go as far as you're comfortable with. I…I don't think I've felt like this about anyone else, and I don't want to hurt you."

"You talk too much," she growled, and she was back again, making him want her more than ever. Her hips on his drove him crazy, every slight movement against his groin agony. Her hands were navigating the buttons of his shirt, and he leaned up enough to shrug himself out of it, tossing it to the side. Her hands clawed at his back, and he didn't care. His hands roamed everywhere but where he really wanted them to go, until she finally jerked his hand to her breast, the sigh that escaped her making him want to hear more from her. He wanted to hear all her noises and taste all of her. His hand went to the straps, pulling them down forcefully and exposing her bra. Her lips shifted into a smile in the kiss, and he grinned right back. She pulled him up into a sitting position, and he set to work exploring his way around the edge of the lacy pink bra with his lips.

"Can I?" he asked, his voice rough.

She nodded, and he unsnapped the clasp easily –jerking the material away from her skin, wanting to be rid of all of this nonsensical clothing. And God the noise she made when his tongue slid over her nipple; he pushed her down the ground a bit roughly, pinning her arms as he continued his exploration of her breast. He freed one of her arms, using his hand to roam over the rest of her skin.

Her free hand was doing a bit of roaming too, and when it found his zipper, he sucked in a sharp intake of breath with it. Jeans? Who needed the stupid jeans? He sat up, removing them as quickly as he was able despite his trembling fingers. Apparently the few seconds apart were too much for her to handle, and she pulled him back down to her, her hand finding her target inside his boxers. Now it was his turn to moan, and the surprise of her freeing him from his boxers completely was a bit much.

"Helga, I don't-"

"Birth control!" she gasped, her face flushed.

"Why are you on birth control?" he squeaked, taken aback.

"For my monthly, gosh. Now tell me," she growled, her voice low as her hand skimmed over his erection, "is this thing just for show, or are you going to show me how to use it?"


End file.
